


Trapped in Time

by Dextolan



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Spencer Reid, Bad Luck, Gen, Groundhog Day, Hospitals, Hurt Spencer, Hurt Team, Hurt/Comfort, Sad Spencer Reid, Spencer Reid Whump, Spencer hit by a bus, Spencer is shot, Suicide, Team worried about Spencer, Temporary Character Death, Time Loop, Time Travel, because why not?, poor Spencer Reid, team thinks Spencer is schizophrenic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-09-20 12:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17022621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dextolan/pseuds/Dextolan
Summary: Spencer's day starts going from bad to worse. It doesn't help matters when the day restarts. He's stuck in a time loop and as every day ends so does the lives of those he holds dearest. Spencer must find a way to save them all before the day ends.





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or it's characters)
> 
> First time posting on this site. It’s kind of annoying but I’m working around it ;) my full works can be found of FanFiction.Net under the same name if anyone doesn’t want to wait for the next update.  
> Please leave a comment, it would mean a lot.  
> Enjoy

Spencer's alarm went off and he rolled over groggily, slamming his slender fingers on the off button and collapsing back onto his pillows. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to recall every part of his strange dream. He cracked his eyes open and glanced at the alarm clock; it 6.27am read and beneath it stood the date Monday 13th of September. He sighed, heaving himself from bed, perching on the edge and rubbing his eyes. He kept his eyes closed as he stood up, opening them just in time to witness his hip connect painfully with his chest of drawers. He clamped his hand over his mortal wound, hissing in pain and cursing the inanimate object.  
“Stupid, Stupid,” he muttered, rubbing where the pain of radiating.  
He shuffled into his bathroom, turning the shower on and discarding his pyjamas in the laundry basket. The hot steam closed in on him. It seemed to wake him up, shooing away the slight nausea he had been experiencing. He washed his hair quickly and slipped out, grabbing his tooth brush and scrubbing away the fuzzy feeling that had developed on his teeth over night.

He bounced back into his bedroom, stubbing his toe on a book. Spencer reeled back in frustration, hopping around on one foot while picking out his outfit for the day.

He selected a light grey shirt, decorated with tiny black umbrellas. He fastened a dark grey tie around his neck and threw on a red cardigan, buttoning it over his shirt. He matched them with a pair of grey pants.

He skidded into the kitchen and started to brew some coffee. He returned to his room and pulled on a pink sock he found under a book and a yellow one with navy turtles across it.

Spencer paused in front of a mirror, flicking his drying hair around until he was satisfied, hoping it would dry the way he'd styled it. He glanced at the time; 6.52am.

He heard the ping of the coffee machine and he hurried into the kitchen, expertly pouring himself a mug, and corrupting it with several teaspoons of sugar.

He took his coffee to the couch and opened the book he'd started the night before. I'll just finish this and then I'll head to work, he decided, flicking through the pages at lightening speed.

He got to his desk by 7.41. He loved an early start.

Hotch was already in, pouring over a thick file in his office.

JJ came not long after Reid, throwing her bag down and making herself a mug of coffee.

Emily and Rossi were next, chatting about Rossi's new car. They were shortly followed by Garcia who waved at them all before disappearing into her lair.

Morgan, of course, was last, coming in with 5 minutes to spare from being late. Morgan made coffee and was frisking the first file on his desk (Spencer finishing his last), he glanced over at Spencer's finished pile of paperwork and grumbled.

"Hey pretty boy, you look a little lonely without any work to..."

"Uh uh, Morgan, you can do your own," Spencer said simply, turning a few pages at once.

"I still think you should be given more,” huffed Morgan, storming back to his desk and painfully lifting off the first file. Luckily as he peeked into the file Garcia bumbled in with her usual wad of files. He dropped the file and leaned back with a smirk. He glanced at Spencer’s completed work. Chump, he thought affectionately.

"This is a local one my lovelies, so leave your go bags and move your butts!" shrilled the glitter clad tech analyst.

The team were briefed and set to work. They established that their killer was a middle age male Caucasian, who had a classic God complex. He was very organised, having once killed six victims in their home in Virginia, all of whom were adults. He also proved he could take on stronger individuals targeting houses belonging to law enforcement officers. The case had been ongoing and the police had finally (and reluctantly,) decided to give the case to the FBI.

Reid got up, figuring it was as good a time as any to start his geographical profile.

"Reid, could you take the files you filled out this morning down to the third floor. In fact take all the ones the team finished, excluding Morgan who I doubt did any.” Hotch raised his eyebrows at Morgan who could only smirk.

"Uh sure." Spencer tore himself away from the board with reluctance and headed over to his desk where his finished stack of paperwork stood.

"Need any help, Spence?" JJ asked watching her friend struggle through the door with the mountain of work.

"No thanks, I'm good. I think,” Spencer said, his tongue poking past his top lip as he moved to valence his arms full of files. He barely made it through the glass doors. He looked over the pile just to in time to see the doors of the elevator snap shut.

"Fantastic," he grumbled to himself watching the numbers decend above the elevator.  
Spencer glanced back up to the conference room and he squinted at the figures. Hotch was the only one still in there, the others had gone to their desks to grab a few things, or in Emily's case, restock herself with coffee. Reid's feet tapped impatiently. He bit his lip, looking between the elevator and the staircase before he huffed and made his way to the stairs.

He managed to get through the door without incident; the files still towered in his arms, so he had to gently press his back into the door and slide through, his eyes watchful on the work he carried. He looked down the steep flight of stairs. Spencer swallowed thickly and took a step forward, gazing at the ten flights below him.

He took another step and steadied himself.  
“Just three floors,” he told himself as he went down another. “Next time Hotch can have Anderson do this,” he grumbled. He lowered his foot again when it suddenly slipped out from beneath him. He barely had a chance to gasp as the ground disappeared. It soon reappeared, slamming into his back. Spencer held on to the files as he tumbled down the steps. With each bounce and yelp several files flew from his grasp. After around three steps, Reid forgot about the files and tried to stop his fall, flailing his arms out. Somewhere along the way his eyes closed. All he could think was the amount of noise he must be making. Agony tore through his ribs as they connected with the hard concrete steps and he cried out. The cry was cut short when Spencer's head cracked harshly on the corner of a step, knocking him out cold.

Spencer's body barged to a stop as it came into contact with the wall at the bottom of the first flight of stairs. Spencer collapsed back to the ground.

***

Spencer cracked his eyes open and he groaned in pain as light flooded his vision, as opposed to the comforting darkness he'd been enjoying just moments ago.

"Spence? Are you alright?"  
Spencer closed his eyes against the prying light and flipped himself over, forcing his arms under him and pushing himself up. He reopened his eyes to find files littering the stairwell. He rolled up his sleeve where there’s was a dull throb and saw a long red mark, purpling as it spiralled up his arm. The side of his head also was throbbing intensely. He touched his chest when his ribs had been hit.

"Hey, kid, are you hurt?"  
Spencer squinted up to see Rossi hovering a couple of steps away and JJ perched next to him. He coughed and blinked, momentarily confused by the whole situation. Then he remembered. Files, stairs, he’d lost his footing.  
“Oh...uh...”  
The door was about to swing open again so Spencer jolted to his feet, cursing his swiftness when his joints protested.

"I'm okay, just sore,” he mumbled finally as he his limbs and winced. Morgan and Prentiss came through the door looking extremely worried before they could ask Reid said, "I'm fine, honestly. I just slipped.”  
He looked down at all the files that littered the floor, then he looked back at where he had slipped and where some paper stuck to the wet floor.  
“I think those steps are wet, watch out,” he warned as Morgan made his way down gingerly and glanced at the bottom of his shoe which was in fact wet.

"Stupid cleaners," he growled. "Where the hells the sign?"

"These stairs are probably never used, they wouldn't expect..."

"Don't make excuses them Reid,” chided Emily as she too tutted at the slippery step and set to work helping JJ collect the files.

"Sorry," Reid mumbled, pressing the side of his head gently and grimacing when his fingers connected with a small knot forming a little below his temple.

"How about I take the files down and you go get a coffee?" JJ suggested taking the files from Emily.

"Uh, shouldn't he go to the hospital?" Emily frowned but Spencer shook his head vigorously at her. She held her hands up in surrender. "Alright, suit yourself!" she laughed.

"Let's go get you an ice pack, man,” said Morgan, throwing a protective arm around Spencer.

"And coffee?" Spencer added hopefully. Morgan smiled.

"And coffee."  
Morgan helped Reid stumble up a few steps, but the younger agent insisted he could walk just fine on his own.

Before long Spencer was sat in his chair in the conference room with two ice packs soothing his aches, one for his ribs and the other for his head. He almost laughed when Morgan served him his coffee.

"I know you only like a little bit of coffee with your sugar,” chuckled the older agent, handing Spencer a bag of sugar and a teaspoon.

"I should fall down the stairs more often,” Reid joked.

"Ah, don't get used to it, pretty boy, it ain’t every day you get a waitor like me.” Morgan raised his eyebrows and smirked like he did at the clubs Spencer had the unfortunate pleasure of witnessing.

"What happened to you?" Hotch frowned as he entered the room and saw Spencer holding an ice pack over his ribs, another lay dripping on the table.

"Uh, I had a mishap...with the stairs,” he said, blood rushing to his cheeks. Hotch scowled at the bruise forming on Reid's face, but let it go seeing as the agent was already working again.

Spencer decided to stay in the conference room for a while after that. By lunch he finally built up the courage to retrieve his sandwich and a coffee refill.

Rossi and JJ left to interview some of the victim's families, whereas, Emily and Morgan spoke to key witnesses.

Reid remained behind, discussing with Garcia, and feeding information to her from the others.

Spencer (bored with his current job), started filling a clear board full of equations. He frowned when something didn't seem to add up.

He pulled over the map and pinned the recent murder sights. He mumbled randomly to himself as the others discussed the profile.

"He's a slippy bastard,” grunted Morgan. He glanced at the clock and sighed. 7.10am, so he wasn't going home early.

Reid scowled at the map. He'd pinned where the next kill site would be. He was certain it would be there, he'd bet his life on it. But it all came together so easily for him. It was blantently obvious that this would be the next location, which was what worried him so much.

"Hey, genius, can you possibly return to your body and tell us what you've found?" Rossi smirked. Spencer continued to stare at the board, his eyes narrowed and his mouth bobbing open and closed with thought.

"Re..." Rossi started again, but Spencer turned around, snapping so suddenly out of his daze that he cut Dave off.

"I think I've found the next location and based on the time frame he won't have hit it yet." 

"Seriously? We have him then!" Morgan clasped his hands together.

"Wait, wait. How did you figure that out?" Emily said, crossing her arms.

"Adrian Shepard and his wife live there. Mr Shepard is on the Virginia police force," Garcia added, turning her computer screen around.

"I asked her to check out the location,” Spencer explained to their confused faces. "That matchs with our Unsub's victimology. He’s hit houses belonging to officers as well as higher authority figures. It also fits in with his God complex. He's proving that he is the highest authority. As for the geographical profile, that is mostly maths and a bit of science. I could explain it if you'd..."

"That's alright Reid. What's the address?" Morgan asked as he jumped from his seat.

"Brookebank farmhouse, Garcia, can you send it to..."

"Already done my gorgeous brainiac," grinned Garcia.

"Spencer are you sure about this location?" Dave asked.  
Spencer gave him a look that made him smirk.  
"Of course you are,” he chuckled, strapping a vest on.

"Reid go with Prentiss and Rossi, take the first SUV. Morgan, JJ, you're both with me, let's head out."

***

"Emily and I will head around back,” Rossi said. He raised his gun and approached the side of the house with his gun raised, 'FBI' emblazoned on his chest as he strutted around the back of the building with Emily at his heels.

"JJ and I will take the side entrances, Morgan, you and Reid try the front."  
With that Morgan and Reid were left on the drought ridden land, their guns still holstered.

"You knock, I'll kick it down,” Morgan said as he pulled his gun out. Spencer nodded and made his way to the door. He gave it a loud thud and called, "FBI, come out with your hands up!" No answer.

Morgan raised his foot and slammed it into the door frame. The door fell open like a dead weight, smacking hard against the wall.

"I guess it was open,” whispered Reid, grinning from ear to ear.

Morgan went to punch the genius playfully when a 'ziiiippp' flew through the air, halting with a dull, wet thud.  
Morgan lifted his gun again and let off a shot at the dark figure in the room.  
“Shit,” he hissed.  
Spencer staggered back, pain erupting across his shoulder. He pressed his fingers to the pain and gasped when they traced a small bloody hole in the meaty part of his shoulder. Morgan looked over at Spencer and his eyes grew wider.

"Shit!" he hissed, pulling himself and Spencer down and looking over at the bloody agent.  
“You okay, kid?”  
Spencer was drained of colour and his eyes were focused on the blood streaming from his wound.

Fearful of another bullet, Morgan grabbed Spencer's legs and pulled him behind a nearby couch. Spencer got his arms under himself and with great effort; he helped get behind the couch.

"I-I'm okay, Derek," winced Spencer as the older agent looked over the hole. Morgan ducked down and pulled out his radio while still watching Spencer worriedly.

"Hotch? Are you there?"

"What is it Morgan? We heard a struggle..."

"He's in here, Hotch, and he's armed. Reid's been shot.” Morgan’s eyes fluttered to the younger agent, who was holding his hand tight against the wound and was looking back up at Morgan with determination.

"Shit, where?"  
“Is he okay?"  
"How?"  
"Is he conscious?"  
Several voices came through at once.

"I don’t know. He’s conscious. Reid, you alright, kid?”  
“I’m fine,” Reid said in a strained voice.  
Morgan stared at him for a moment before reaching for the radio.  
“We need medics. I’ll stay with him.”  
Spencer rolled his eyes but grimaced and clutched his side tighter, blood trickling through his fingers.  
"We're going in,” Rossi's voice crackled through the radio.  
“Here.” Morgan pulled off his jacket and pressed it agains Reid.  
“M’ fine.”  
“Please. Just let me help.”

***

Rossi and Prentiss opened the back door cautiously, aiming their guns around. They heard the muffled whimpers from the front room. Assuming it was Reid and Morgan; they began to make their way over.

The slamming of the back door made them spin around.  
Only wind, thought Emily. She was about to turn back when she felt something sharp pierce into her back. She cried out and swayed slightly, before crashing to the floor. She gagged as something metallic filled her mouth.

Rossi fired several shots into the dark corridor, glancing down at Emily quickly as he did.  
He stopped shooting and his hands shook heavily. The fingers around the gun sagged as he stared at Emily who had stopped struggling and was completely still.

"No,” he whispered, kneeling down beside the fallen agent.

As his knees bent another 'zip' soared through the air. Rossi's head snapped back as a bullet caught him between the eyes.

***

"Rossi, are you in? Who fired?" Hotch muttered into his radio. "Dave?" Still no answer. He frowned

"Emily?" Morgan’s voice broke in on the radio. Neither agents replied.

Hotch turned to JJ. “Go check around back; I'll take this entrance".  
JJ nodded at the order man and slunk off to the back door. "And be careful,” Hotch barked as she disappeared.

Hotch tried the door, but it wouldn't budge. He sighed, taking a step back and then ramming his body into the door. The door gave way with a groan. The house was silent. Not a good sign. Hotch crept along the wall, his eyes skirting the front room and catching sight of movement behind the couch.

"Morgan?" he whispered, Morgan's head peered over the top, relief washing over them both. Hotch darted behind the yellow couch, taking in the two agents. Spencer was bleeding heavily, but his eyes were wide and alert and he was moving and breathing okay.

"You alright Reid?" Hotch asked and the young man who nodded weakly. The radio started to crackle and the three looked at each other nervously.

"Hotch! Morgan?" JJ's desperate voice came through to their ears.

"I've got them, JJ,” Hotch reassured.

"Hotch, Rossi and Emily are down! They're...oh god!" her voice cracked naturally without the radio's interference.

"JJ find a pulse. Have they both been shot?"

"N..no pulse, Hotch. They're dead! Oh god! Hotch they're..." the radio cut out suddenly, a dull whack echoing over the intercom.

"JJ?" Spencer whispered into his own radio. No answer. Static blared through.

"Jenifer!?" he yelled, his voice breaking.

***

JJ grasped her throat where the bullet had buried its teeth. She gagged on the blood flooding her mouth and dancing over her tongue. She couldn't breath. She sunk down over Emily's still body, which she had been knelt next to in order to find a pulse that no longer existed.

Her mind flickered to images of her son and her husband. She prayed they would be okay.

"Henry.." she gargled, fighting the agony and blood that was swamping her.

She rasped out a wet breath before a second bullet entered her skull.

***

The gasping stopped.

"JENIFER!" Spencer shouted. He was growing paler, both from blood loss and terror. He felt sick.

"I'm going in there," snapped Morgan, releasing his hand from Spencer’s side.

"No, you wait here with Spencer. We can't leave him alone.”  
The two older agents shared a look, their eyes glancing over Reid and then back at each other.

"Fine,” hissed Morgan.

Hotch got up and slowly stepped into the corridor.

Rossi, Emily and JJ were lay in the back utility room, the kitchen stood next to the room and a corridor connected the kitchen with two bedrooms and the living room where Morgan and Reid currently resided.

Hotch flung open the first bedroom door. Once he was happy that it was clear, he moved on the the second bedroom. His eyes caught something lit up in the room. With a frown laden on his features, he carefully made his way to the flashing device, shutting the door slightly so he was aware of any movement. He lent down to examine the item and almost jumped back in shock. A quiet beeping was radiating from the device; it read 4.39 and was slowly counting down.

A bomb.

He was so lost in shock and fear, Hotch didn't notice the door tip-toe open, nor did he see the figure waiting, with a gun poised on the unit chief. Hotch went to grab his radio when a whooshing of air skimmed by his ears and pain erupted over his thigh. He swivelled round and fired off his own shot, landing it in the unsub's arm. Unfortunately, the unsub also managed to pull off a second shot, landing it deep in Hotch's abdomen.

Hotch felt himself fall down, and his fingers still tried to grasp for a better hold on his gun.

Hotch reached out for his weopen that had slipped from his fingers. The figure in the door had vanished and a sudden, overwhelming panic took hold of the unit chief.

"Morgan, get out of here! There's a bomb!" He shouted into his radio.

***

Morgan gazed over to Spencer.

"Can you stand?" He asked and Spencer nodded vigorously, getting to his feet and staying low, ignoring the shooting pain that suddenly burst up his abdomen.

"We're gonna catch this son of a bitch. Stay behind me.”  
Morgan got up slowly, helping the young agent up further. He gave Reid a sad look, hoping against all hope that he would see those tawny eyes again.

"Oh, and, Reid.”  
Reid looked over to his friend, fighting tears.  
"We might not like what we see. Hotch, we're coming. Where's the unsub?"

A very weak Hotch responded through the radio.

"No! Morgan, get yourself and Reid out of there! That's an order!"

"We are not leaving you!" Morgan insisted, beginning their trek down the hallway, stealing looks back at Reid who wasn't coping too well.

Hot-," Morgan froze, he swore something moved in the dimly lit kitchen ahead. Forgetting Spencer was behind him, he rushed for the room, firing at the figure ahead of him.

"Morgan wait!" yelled Spencer, trudging into the room as fast as he could.

Spencer heard a familiar 'whiz' shoot through the air, he prepared for the pain, but none arrived. He opened his eyes in time to see Morgan stumble backwards, his gun sliding across the laminated tiles.

"NO!" shrieked Reid as his best friend's body crumbled to the ground, a thick, viscous pool of crimson erupting from the gunshot wound.

"No, no, no!" yelped Spencer, skidding over to Morgan and kneeling down beside the older agent. Morgan's eyes were open wide and Spencer's heart fluttered with hope. He grabbed Morgan's shoulders; the man flopped around like a fish out of water.

"Oh..." gasped Reid, his eyes skimming the hole that sat in the centre of Derek's chest. Morgan's eyes remained staring; though they were open, they were unresponsive, cloudy and dead. The life had already left them.

"Morgan!" Reid's voice broke as he called out to his dead teammate. He wrapped his arms around Derek's thick, muscular ones. "Please d...don't leave me too,” Spencer sobbed into Derek's neck.

Spencer screamed into the man's clothes, allowing tears to fall. He didn't care that the unsub was still there; he wanted the son of a bitch to come and shoot him; he needed the pain to go away.

"I..I can't..." he cried into Morgan, who was growing colder and paler, blood still leaking from his chest. Spencer barely noticed the increasing pain in his shoulder.

The unsub held the gun to the boy who was grasping the beefy, black man, sobbing unindurably over his body. He pulled the trigger and the gun clicked softly, alerting him that bullets were out of stock. He shrugged and glanced at his watch; 1.54 seconds, that's enough time, he thought, shoving his hands in his pockets and plodding away from the scene. The agent inside wouldn't bother him.

Spencer rocked gently, holding onto the warmth Morgan still.

The radio murmered to life. "Morgan? Reid? I-is anyone...there?" Hotch's voice choked through.

Hotch watched the radio, but it didn't reply to his pleas. He could hear soft crying from the room ahead. Aaron sighed, he had failed his team. He glanced at the bomb; 37 seconds. He felt a tear slide down his cheeks. He looked at his wounds. Die now, he begged his body. His eyes fearfully traced the diminishing numbers on the bomb. Die, please, die. Aaron's body didn't give in to his demands. He remained breathing even as the clock struck 0.

The unsub paused a good distance from the house, the young agent didn't exit. He gleamed when an explosion rocked the very earth his feet stood on. The farmhouse was obliterated, along with the agents inside.

Reid felt an unbearable pain rip through him, as if he was being torn apart; though nothing could compare to the agonising pain his friend's death had caused.

Suddenly, all pain vanquished; he felt as if he was floating, everything was white and tranquil.

Spencer Reid shot up from under his covers, gasping for breath and holding his chest tightly, peering down to see if he had in fact been ripped apart. He was one piece.

He glanced at his clock; 6:27am it read. Beneath it was a small Callender which revealed it was Monday 13th of September. Reid frowned, yesterday was Monday, he thought.

Morgan! His whole body became taunt. Emily, Rossi, JJ, Hotch! He grabbed his cell from his table dialling his best friends number.

"It was just a nightmare, just a nightmare. They.. they're fine..." he stammered to himself, biting his lip as the phone rang.

Once.

Twice.

But it felt so real, he thought, his eyes narrowing in pain.

Third ring.

"Reid? It's like 6 in the morning, man."

TBC


	2. Day 2- Burning dregs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I’ll try and be better ;)  
> So, Spencer’s having another rough day, suspiciously similar to the previous day.  
> He tries his hardest to stay out of trouble but it doesn’t seem to work out...  
> Bless him.

** (Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or it's characters) **

 

* * *

"Reid answer me!"

 

Spencer's mouth bobbed open and closed as his best friends voice berated his ears with factious, angry growls.

 

"It's 6.30, why the hell are you calling me?" Morgan grumbled down the phone and Spencer heard shuffling as Morgan no doubt pushed his sheets off.

 

Morgan? Morgan!

 

He felt his heart soar. Just a dream, he thought to himself, a nightmarish, surprisingly realistic dream, but obviously a dream no less.

 

"I-I... was...khm making sure..." Spencer's words began to trip over themselves as he tried to explain.

 

"Are you alright?" Morgan asked, sounding less annoyed than his sleepy grumbles. "You sound like you've just run a mile or somin... which is... not like you," Morgan said slowly as Spencer continued to splutter, trying to come up with some kind of reasoning for waking up the older agent.

 

"I-I hadadreamandfeltrealand-."

 

"Slow down kid." Morgan's voice became softer and Spencer calmed ever so slightly and took a quick breath, reassuring himself that if Morgan was here then so was the rest of his team and therefore it was a dream, a spiteful, terrifying dream.

 

"I... I had a nightmare. I had to call...make sure..."

 

"You wanna talk about it?" Morgan, unknown to Spencer, was sat up in his bed, wide awake now and anxious as he drew his feet slowly down onto the floor.

 

"No. No, it's fine... thank you. I just had to call you... make sure you were alright." Spencer sighed deeply into his phone and closed his eyes. "It felt so real," he said in a quiet breath.

 

"Well, I'm here if you wanna talk about it. Right now though, I'm going back to sleep for an hour, and for waking me up you can do some of my paperwork. See ya later, pretty boy," the older agent said with a hint of a snicker and Spencer could practically hear the grin of satisfaction on Morgan's face before he hung up. Reid couldn't help smiling himself, even though he'd just earned himself more work.

 

"It was just a nightmare," he said reassuringly while he rubbed his face. He laughed at the absurdity. He needed to keep control of these nightmares. Gideon had taught him how, once upon a time, but Spencer's solid gold memory seemed to be failing him on that front

 

Spencer got up out of bed. He was still wiping his eyes when his hip connected painfully with the chest of drawers. He held his side, getting a strong feeling of deja vu. He glared at the furniture as if it had grown a fist and punched him for no good reason.

 

He went through his normal morning routine. He cursed loudly when he stubbed his toe against a book on his way out of the bathroom and he grabbed it and slammed it down on his no good chest of drawers.

 

"There," he hissed, "you're made for each other."

 

He made it to work with no other incidents by 7.40 am.

 

He groaned when he saw Morgan's massive pile of work and he reluctantly slugged a few from the top.

 

Spencer opened his first file, setting aside the ones from Morgan's pile so as to prove he had indeed done as promised. He frowned as he flicked further through the pages. He was sure he'd done this exact file before. But it was impossible. He skimmed through the rest of his pile which only made his scowl deepen. He had read and finished all of the files. He shook his head, thinking it couldn't be right. In his nightmare, he had completed these _exact_ files.

 

Reid bit his lip, thinking hard. He couldn't understand the phenomenon that lay in front of his eyes. He glanced at Morgan's files and then back at his own and shrugged; he had too much to get on with- whether he was having severe deja vu or not- to investigate further.

 

He pulled out a pen and began filling in the paperwork; he remembered everything he'd written in his dream, so he was able to complete it quicker than he usually did. Within 20 minutes he was already onto Morgan's stack. He felt strangely exhilarated as if he had gained a supernatural power at writing paperwork, (his brain reminded him countlessly that was an impossibility.)

 

Spencer dumped Morgan's files back on the older agent's desk and opened up the book he had stashed in his drawer.

 

He opened it up to the bookmark and chewed his lip. He'd read this book in his dream as well.

 

"Hey pretty boy, I was only kidding!" said Morgan, his brow furrowing in shock when he saw the big pile of paperwork Spencer had done for him. Reid waved a hand, still nose deep in his book.

 

"I finished mine early and it's the least I could do," he said simply with a shrug.

 

Spencer sat up suddenly, realising he should take his files to the third floor. In his nightmare, Hotch had told him to and he'd slipped on the stairs. Since his dream was seeming scarily real he decided to get his files to their respected place without having to use the dreaded staircase.

 

He grabbed his files, taking JJ, Emily's and the small pile of Morgan's that he'd completed and he headed for the elevator.

 

"Woah. Hold your horse's, boy genius," Garcia placed a hand on his chest to stop him. "Case first. You can file them later."

 

Spencer sighed and placed the work back on his desk.

* * *

 

Spencer sat in the conference room, gaping down at his file. _Not possible,_ he thought. He read the file three times and knew without a doubt that this was the exact same case he'd profiled in his dream.

 

"You alright Reid?" Hotch asked, his eyebrows bending into their usual stance. The bewildered expression on his youngest agent's face was a little disconcerting.

 

"Uh yeah..." Spencer mumbled, glancing up into the professional faces of his co-workers. He knew he couldn't confess what was bothering him, it was too... strange.

 

If this was the same case as his dream then the location would be the same; he knew that he couldn't predict the future, but he had a feeling that if he did the math again, the location would lead to Brookbank farmhouse. He started running through the math when Hotch snapped him out of his thoughts.

 

"If you're sure. I need you to go drop your files off on the third floor. Take the others as well, I see even Derek had completed some." Hotch raised an eyebrow in Derek's direction, knowing full well that the agent hadn't been in early enough to complete his paperwork.

 

"Oh, right, yeah sure," Spencer stammered. He remembered Hotch asking the same thing in the nightmare he'd had. The coincidences were mounting up. He got up hurriedly and scurried about the bullpen grabbing the files he'd set down just 10 minutes before. His mind whirred with maths and he came to the same conclusion as he had in his dream: their ubsub was going to strike the farmhouse.

 

"Need help?" JJ asked.

 

Spencer looked around and saw the blonde bending down to reach something in her draw.

 

"Nope, I..." Spencer paused and looked over at the elevator. He recalled his nightmare and he wasn't ready to risk the stairs again. "Actually can you go hold the elevator?"

 

"Oh sure," JJ said and she hurried ahead of him and stuck her foot in the door.

 

"Thanks." Spencer offered her a grateful smile as she turned back before he sighed and repositioned the towering files.

 

Reid managed to make it to the third floor and back without a single accident although all the whole his mind had been on getting a map and finding the location he was sure could close the case. He returned to his desk and huffed. Things were going back to normal. Or at least normal for Spencer Reid.

 

He went to grab his mug and realised it was empty. He stared at the dark dregs mournfully. He knew for sure that he hadn't drunk it. He looked up and saw Morgan watching him from the corner of his eye with a grin and Spencer closed his mouth and set it in an angry line.

 

"Morgan! Was this you?" he snapped, slamming the mug on Morgan's desk. Morgan tried to keep his features neutral and appear innocent.

 

"Who me? Of course not," he smiled sweetly.

 

"Why?!"

 

"Well, I had two options, drink your coffee, or go to the kitchen, measure our the coffee, boil a new pot, wait for that and then have to clean it up when I was done. I needed coffee, kid, you left yours for the taking," Morgan said in his defense and he held his hands up in surrender. Spencer growled and stormed off to the break area.

 

"Oh, out of curiosity, how much sugar do you put in your coffee? Actually, let me rephrase, how much coffee do you have with your sugar?" Derek puckered his lips together as if he had a weird taste on his tongue. This only made Reid growl harder as he filled the coffee machine with hot water. He thought he may even have steam coming from his ears rather than the pot of boiling coffee.

 

Morgan chuckled to himself as he watched the genius prepare coffee. The coffee machine beeped to inform its user that it was ready for action. Spencer grabbed the pot and whipped around to where he'd left his mug only to smack into Anderson who had been going to get his own mug of coffee. Anderson's body collided with the coffee pot tipping it over the hand that was holding it. As the boiling liquid sloshed over his fingers, Reid yelped and dropped the pot. His yelp turned into an agonised shout and he clutched his hand.

 

Morgan glanced up to see Spencer drop the coffee and shake his hand out, whimpering in pain. _Shit,_ he thought, getting out of his chair and heading over to his friend.

 

"Shit, shit, shi..." Spencer cursed under his breath, waving his hand around frantically as it throbbed.

 

"Sorry, Dr. Reid. I wasn't looking where I...are you alright?" Anderson frowned anxiously at the agent who was bent double, clutching his blistering hand. Reid grunted in response, shaking his hand out while his face screwed up in pain.

 

"Agent M..Morgan, I...I didn't..."

 

Spencer interrupted Anderson's apology when he stumbled over to the sink, knocking the drying rack across the counter. He turned the faucet on all the while making deep grunting noises and jammed his right hand beneath the cold waterfall. His sigh came out along with a squeak as the chilled stream soothed his angry red skin.

 

"Reid, you alright man?" Morgan asked, placing a firm hand on Spencer's shoulder, which caused the young genius to jerk back.

 

"Oh. Uh. I'm fine?" He gritted his teeth and sounded unconvincing through the severe pain.

 

"No, you're not. Show me," Morgan ordered and he held his palm out expectantly. Spencer shook his head, his eyes wide and scared.

 

"Can't, Morgan. Burns have to be held under cold water for at least ..." a moan interrupted him. "Five minutes".

 

Morgan rolled his eyes and bent forward over the sink to examine the hand in question. He kissed his teeth when his eyes caught the blisters forming over the raw skin. Beneath the faucet, he could see how the raging red skin contrasted the natural paleness of the rest of Spencer's arm.

 

"Nah. We're going to the hospital, man." He shook his head and pulled back up beside a hissing Spencer.

 

"N..no, no..." Spencer started until he heard anxious voices behind them.

 

"Spence? Morgan? Everything okay?" Spencer flicked his head around to see JJ rushing over to them, with Emily in tow.

 

"Uh.." Spencer opened his mouth and glanced at his fingers which were starting to go numb from the cold water.

 

"It was my fault," insisted Anderson suddenly who was looking guiltily at his feet (which just so happened to be the only place the coffee had caught him.)

 

Morgan waved Anderson away. "Not your fault," he mumbled. He turned to the ladies. JJ was staring in horror at Spencer's hand -he was trying to position himself in a way that they wouldn't see the burns- whereas, Emily was trying to get by to wash her mug. She paused when she saw the coffee covered floor, as well as the fact that Spencer was blocking the sink.

 

"What's up?" she asked, her brow furrowing.

 

"Nothin..."

 

They all turned on Spencer, giving him a look of 'seriously' and he shied away from them.

 

"Anderson accidentally bumped into him while he was holding a fresh pot of coffee," Morgan explained simply, his eyes still trained on Reid, who forgot the embarrassment of their prying eyes and was biting his lip and wincing; the waters soothing qualities were wearing off.

 

"Jeez," gasped Emily, leaning closer to get a look at Reid's hand; Spencer was in too much pain to try and hide.

 

"Didn't realise you were paid to clean the kitchen," chuckled Rossi, walking past the concerned agents and heading to the coffee machine. When his eyes caught the empty machine he sighed.

 

"Hah hah, very funny. Hide the coffee from Rossi. You do know that prank works better on Reid". Rossi frowned when no one else laughed; his frown deepened when nobody returned the coffee to its rightful place. He turned and his frown dispersed, his eyebrows skirting his hairline.

 

"Oh".

 

"Yea 'oh'," Morgan said.

 

"I'm sure it's been five minutes now, Reid," Derek insisted, focusing his attention back on Spencer and trying to remove Reid's hand himself.

 

"What's wrong here? We really need to get on with this case." The deep grumble of their boss came from behind them and Reid bit his lip even harder.

 

"Coming." Reid pulled his hand out from under the faucet and pushed through the crowd his team had formed, shaking the water from his hand and forcing a neutral look on his face.

 

"No you don't..." quipped Morgan, grabbing Reid by the shoulder and holding him there. _I guess he is as strong as he looks,_ Reid thought. Morgan grasped Spencer's right arm and hoisted it up for examination, unfortunately for Reid, the whole team had a front row seat.

 

Spencer peered at his painful hand and even he grimaced at the sight. The skin on the palm and fingertips was peeling off, revealing a fresh new layer under the wrinkled remains of dead skin. This new skin shone a vibrant red against the pale skin; blood pooling in small areas where the boiling coffee had burnt deeper. _Third_ _degree,_ Spencer thought. The back of his hand hadn't fared much better. The skin had managed to cling on most parts, but small blisters had started to appear over the crimson skin.

 

"Take him to the hospital," Hotch commanded, Morgan nodded in agreement. Reid opened his mouth to object, but he had everyone's eyes on him again.

 

"I'll get some ice," JJ offered, turning to the refrigerator.

 

"What are you all doing? I didn't realise lunch st... oh my god! Reid, you-your hand!" Penelope cried. Spencer pulled his hand from Morgan and tried to let it hang casually at his side, but as soon as it dropped he cried out.

 

"I'm taking him to the hospital now, Baby Girl," Morgan reassured her, holding Spencer's hand up again.

 

"I c-can't leave y-yet..." Spencer stuttered, his eyes narrowing as the burning intensified.

 

"I don't care. You're going to the hospital Reid," said Hotch sternly. JJ handed Morgan an ice pack, and he held in gently to Reid's palm, causing the young agent's knees to bend when the corner of his eyes darkened. Morgan held him up.

 

"B-but I-I know the location," Spencer stammered, blinking rapidly to disturb the blurriness settling over his eyes. Morgan was pulling him to the elevator by this point, ignoring his desperate pleas. Spencer wrenched his head around to the others, who were looking on nervously at his retreating back as they clambered into the elevator and the metal doors began to clamp shut.

 

"Brookbank!" shouted Spencer. "Brookbank far..." the doors slammed together cutting Reid off.

 

"What's he on about?" Garcia asked timidly.

 

"Something about a location. I don't know what for," Rossi scowled.

 

"Garcia, see what you can find on a Brookbank in Virginia. I want it pinned on the map," Hotch said. Garcia nodded and scuttled off to her lair.

 

"We've only been looking at this case for what? an hour?" marveled Emily, filling the coffee pot with water. "How can he have worked something out this soon?" she mused.

 

"This is Spence we're talking about," chuckled JJ, as she took a cloth to the coffee soaked floor.

 

* * *

Spencer held his hand up to his shoulder and sighed heavily. They'd been waiting two hours already. He dared not look at his hand, though he could feel it pulsating through the makeshift bandage and the two ice packs which had long since stopped soothing his wounds.

 

Morgan got up for the 10th time- as Spencer had counted so far- and marched over to the receptionist and back to the busy waiting room with a look of defeat.

 

"This is ridiculous! Your hand will fall off by the time they see you!" snapped Morgan, flopping angrily into his chair.

 

"Uh, not helping," hissed Spencer, moving his hand and sending a fresh wave of pain through it. Morgan gave the kid an apologetic look. He felt pretty guilty for this whole situation. If he hadn't drunk Spencer's coffee they probably wouldn't be there. A nurse nudged Morgan from his remorseful thoughts.

 

"Spencer Reid?" Spencer glanced up eagerly, ready to get checked in, out and back to the BAU. "The doctors ready to see you now", the nurse smiled closed lipped at him and directed them to an examination room.

 

Morgan launched himself onto his feet, grumbling "about time," to the cheerful nurse.

 

* * *

Spencer averted his eyes from his hand when the doctor started prodding and tutting at the injuries. Morgan's phone started ringing part way through the exam and he answered it.

 

"Hey Hotc-"

 

"No cell phones in here, sir," the doctor warned, not bothering to look up from Spencer's hand as he cleaned it roughly making Spencer's face screw up.

 

"We're with the FBI. It's important," bickered Morgan, indignantly. The doctor gave the deepest burn a final scrub (Spencer gasped audibly), and looked up wearily at the muscular agent.

 

"Rules still apply," he shot back. Morgan stormed from the room, never putting the phone down.

 

"Sorry Hotch, hospital rules. What's up?" Morgan glanced around to make sure no one could tell him to hang up.

 

"Before I tell you, how's Reid?" Morgan frowned and tapped his feet on the ground.

 

"Uh, he's alright, we've only just been seen, so I don't know the extent. What's happened?" He said insistently.

 

"The location Reid gave us, well turns out that it _is_ the unsub's next hit. The residence fit our unsub's victimology and it links up to the other crime scenes on the map", Hotch's voice was a mixture of confidence and pride.

 

"How the hell did Reid work that out, he'd barely even looked at the case," mused Morgan.

 

"That doesn't matter. All I know is that it all fits together...perfectly. If he follows his schedule he should be there already. _Morgan,_ we could get this guy before he strikes again", there was a childish excitement lacing Hotch's normally stony voice.

 

"Okay, are you going to check it out?"

 

"We're hoping to, we need you though," Morgan's frown deepened, he was feeling even worse for drinking the coffee; now Spencer couldn't even help bring the unsub down; the unsub who _he_ had found.

 

"What about Reid? he-"

 

"What hand did he burn?"

 

"His right hand, bu-"

 

"That's his gun hand. There's no way he can shoot," Hotch deadpanned.

 

"Do you expect me to tell the kid to go home?" Morgan growled. "He found this guy, Hotch. This is hardly fai-"

 

"Morgan, I'm thinking of his safety. I want you here in 15 minutes so we can head to Brookbank farm. I'm already sending Anderson over to pick Reid up and take him home," Morgan sighed deeply, _so he's planned everything already._

 

"He ain't gonna like this," was all Morgan said before hanging up and heading back into the examination room.

 

Spencer's hand was layered in thick white cream and his eyes were closed, the cream was certainly doing its job.

 

"How is he?" Morgan asked as the doctor bustled back in, causing Spencer to snap his eyes open.

 

"Second and third-degree burns on his hand. Deep contusions. I wouldn't expect a quick recovery," he shrugged placing a bag of drugs next to Spencer.

 

"These are antibiotics to prevent infection. These are painkillers," he motioned to the two bags and Spencer pushed away the second with his good hand.

 

"I won't be needing those," he groaned, turning his nose up at the painkillers. Reid gave the two men a look and neither of them thought it wise to argue.

 

"Turns out you were right Pretty Boy. Our unsub is going to hit Brookbank farm next ", Reid nodded slowly, a feeling of dread coming over him. "I need to go with the others to bring him in. Anderson is on his way to take you hom-"

 

"I'm coming," glared Spencer.

 

"Sorry, Kid, Hotch's decision. And how could you help us with your jacked up hand?" another pang of guilt rinsed over the older agent. Spencer went to argue, but Morgan raised his hand. "Seriously Reid, just go home. We've got this. I really need to go," with that Morgan swept from the room so that Spencer couldn't debate his way out of their bosses decision.

 

* * *

By the time Anderson arrived, Reid was in the waiting room, trying to hide his pain. His hand was heavily bandaged in gauze and thick white cloth. He could still feel the steady burning, though the cream was still doing its job at easing that burn.

 

"Hey, Dr Reid. I just wanted to say again how sorry I am f-for uh...the-"

 

"That's fine. Just..." an idea filled Spencer's mind and he couldn't shake it off.

 

"Are you alright, Dr? Let's get you home."

 

"Anderson you know I forgive you right?" The older agent nodded cautiously.

 

"Well to make it up for me can you do me the smallest of favours. In fact, it'll probably work out easier for you."

 

Within 20 minutes Anderson was pulling up at the BAU, with a grinning Spencer beside him.

 

"I won't get into trouble for this, right?" Anderson asked nervously.

 

"Of course not, if anyone asks I forced you into this," Anderson grimaced and got out from the car hurriedly, attempting to open Reid's door.

 

"Thanks," Spencer chirped as he jogged to the elevator.

 

* * *

Reid skipped into the office, his friend's desks were empty, as was Rossi and Aaron's offices and the conference room. He darted off to the one place that was rarely empty; Garcia's lair.

 

"No, you be careful," Garcia hand a headset on and was typing away at her computer. She turned upon hearing her door open and gaped at Spencer.

 

"Reid! You-you're s-supposed to-"

 

"I couldn't just go home," Reid shrugged, keeping his white-clad hand behind his back.

 

Voices started shouting in Garcia's ear and she tried to shush them.

 

"Oh! Take this Reid. I think they want to- ALRIGHT! Morgan, just give me a minute! Jeez." she passed Reid a microphone and earpiece and offered up her black swivel chair which she'd decorated in pink tinsel.

 

"Reid here," Spencer said awkwardly, instantly wanting to facepalm himself.

 

"And what the hell are you doing 'here'?" Snarled Derek, kicking a tuft of dead grass by his feet. They were about to storm the farmhouse.

 

"Reid, I ordered you to go home," said Hotch, a glower upon his brow.

 

"As I've said before, I'm a doctor, and I didn't think I needed to go-"

 

"I told Anderson to take you home," grumbled Rossi, shaking his head, recall not the $20 he had slipped the agent.

 

"Don't blame him. I made him bring me back. Look I'm fine guys and if you thought that I would just go home then you don't know me at all," Reid quipped, he felt immediately bad for saying it. "What I-uh what I mean is that I want to help. I couldn't sit at home whilst you risked your lives." Spencer corrected himself sheepishly.

 

There was silence on the other end as they took in what their youngest said. _He is safe there_ , thought Rossi secretly.

 

"You are not to move from Garcia's office, am I clear?" Jibbed Hotch seriously. Spencer smiled, replying with a slightly smug "crystal".

 

"And if you go against my orders again, I _will_ suspend you, "Hotch added, this threat made Reid swallow thickly.

 

"Yes, sir."

 

He prayed they couldn't hear his voice quiver.

 

* * *

Spencer and Garcia remained quiet on their end, listening to the team as they began their search. They kept glancing at each other anxiously. Rossi and Emily went through the back, Morgan through the front and Hotch and JJ took the side entrance.

 

Reid suddenly felt very sick, knowing he should be with Morgan.

 

"No! Don't go in there!" Reid screamed suddenly into the radio. He swallowed and his free hand carded roughly through his curls.

 

"We're already inside Reid," came Hotch's confused voice. That's when the first shot sounded.

 

"No!" squealed Penelope, grabbing one of her many stuffed animals and clutching it to her chest.

 

"Get out! Get out now!" Spencer reiterated as he slammed his fists harder into his head. Another shot went off and then another.

 

"Please! Do it. Get out!" cried Garcia.

 

"Tell me everyone's okay," she whispered, taking Reid's hand in hers, forgetting his injury. Spencer seemed to have forgotten as well because he didn't recoil at the pain.

 

"You have to leave!" begged Spencer.

 

"No, Reid, we _have to_ get this bastard," crackled Morgan's voice through the radio.

 

"No! Get out!" he pleaded. Garcia was in tears already.

 

"There's a..."

 

The radios all went dead.

 

Spencer's heart practically stopped. _No, no!_

 

He held his chest with his palm tightly. It felt as if he was being torn apart like he had been in his dream.

 

He couldn't handle it, not again.

 

He closed his eyes. Shutting out Penelope's desperate sobs. Cutting the radio's muteness. Quetiening the sound of his heart palpitations.

 

Spencer shot up from under the covers, breathing heavily. He blinked into the darkness.

 

"What..." he mumbled, his voice cracking slightly from emotion.

 

He peered over to his clock.

 

6.27am.

 

Monday, September 13th.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Feedback really helps me, so feel free to drop a comment and subscribe or whatever to keep updated ;D

**Author's Note:**

> Wow... I didn’t enjoy reading through that. I haven’t read this for over a year, I apologise for by not so great writing back then.  
> I may have to completely re-write this story.  
> Anayway, thanks for releasing, hopefully I’ll get the next chapter up soon.


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